No matter how many diapers you bought ahead of time, stole from the hospital, or were gifted at your baby shower, you will either run out or not have the right size. Maybe your baby came a little early and will be wearing newborn diapers for the next couple months and you only had one or two boxes. Maybe your baby is like mine and never fit in newborn sizes in the first place and needed Size 2 starting at six weeks. Either way, this is the first step in realizing that your life is more or less ruled by your child's digestive tract.

This is if you're breastfeeding of course. I mean, if you're not and you want to order nipple cream, hey, no judgement: you do you, friend. But if you are breastfeeding you will realize pretty quickly that, even under the best of circumstances, it's painful. The whole "if you're doing it right it doesn't hurt" is complete and total bullsh*t, people. I mean, you have a little milk vampire attached to your nip most of your waking hours — it's going to take some getting used to! Nipple cream can help, and in the throes of the worst of it, you will buy the largest tub of the stuff you can afford... and, it will turn out, you won't need even a fraction of it because a little dab'll do ya and you get used to it faster than you think and your nipples will stop hurting.

For reasons I'm still not quite clear on, babies (and to a lesser extent toddlers and even some kids) care deeply about what their food comes on and in. I have had entire evenings derailed because I gave my son his milk in the wrong color cup. This starts early. Babies super-duper care about what bottles they take their milk or formula from, never mind that they need to eat from it or they'll starve. They don't care. Can you imagine caring so much about what your take-out container felt like that you'd rather starve that just eat from it? Babies can. Babies do. Babies are weird.

Anyone who has ever said formula feeding is "so easy" has clearly never had a baby who didn't tolerate a single goddamn brand, either going in or coming out.

The mesh underwear they give you at the hospital is, hands down, the ugliest and most comfortable garment you will ever put on your body. It's like having your butt and crotch hugged by a homely angel. But, like blessings from supernatural beings, the mesh underwear are fleeting and they fall apart pretty quickly. You resign yourself to the fact that you will have to wear normal underwear from here on out...

... OH MY GOD THEY SELL THEM ON AMAZON! IS THERE A LEGAL LIMIT ON HOW MANY I CAN PURCHASE?!

Because maybe, maybe, this will help the baby sleep?

Hmmm... I read about swaddling. Maybe this will help the baby sleep...

"Let's see, we have a crib, a co-sleeper, a pack-and-play, rock-n-play, a Moses basket, a regular swing, but maybe this iPhone compatible miracle of super-science that's calibrated with my baby's weight and heart-rate will let everyone get a few hours of shut-eye."

ANYTHING. I'm pretty sure I once ordered magic beans in bulk because I was willing to try anything.

Again, this is breastfeeding specific but I'm not going to judge if this happens to be your thing in any capacity.

You might have picked up nursing bras before you gave birth, way before you knew anything about just how ginormous your tatas would get while breastfeeding. So now you have to get nursing bras that actually fit you.

Because the expensive, high thread-count, extremely light colored bougie sheets you spent six months picking out for your perfectly decorated nursery? Yeah, your baby crapped all over those and there's no salvaging them.

Because you know how you swore up down and sideways that you would never, ever, ever bedshare? Our lie detectors determined that was a lie.

Oh, and also your baby crapped all over your sheets and there's no salvaging them.

Whether or not you've already begun baby-proofing, the presence of your infant in your home will prompt you to recognize the inherent danger in literally everything. You didn't know you lived in an Indiana Jones movie, but here you are, realizing for the first time that electrical sockets are nothing if not baby booby traps.

Oh, and just so you know, as they get older you will discover new and horrifying ways seemingly benign items can become dangerous. I'm swapping out the handles on my kitchen cabinets soon because my school-aged children have discovered they can be used as miniature step ladders to get onto the counter.

Because all those sanctimonious "my baby will never use a pacifier" speeches were based on absolutely no parenting knowledge and now you realize how much of a headache they can spare you.

Also screw your cousin Linda and her smug judgments when she comes to visit. Linda can kick rocks in flip-flops.

The halcyon days of pregnancy hair and nails (so shiny, so thick, so luxurious) are well and truly over. Now you're shedding like a Persian cat in summertime and your nails are as breaking just as easily as your last sleep-deprived nerve. Time to vitamin it up, girl. You will get back all those lustrous locks and thick, unbreakable manicures.

Because know when it's just not going to happen and lean into it. Yes, you're basically bald now, but who cares when you can look like a different era Madonna every day of the week.

I do not fault anyone for splurging on the nice diaper bag. I'm not even saying it's a bad idea. I'm just saying everyone I know has, at some point, at the very least added a boring, utilitarian backpack or tote at some point when they realize that more pockets equals more confusion and also you put unspeakably disgusting things in that bag.

Your baby is why you can't have nice things.

"Because as soon as my doctor clears me for exercise I'm going to start crushing it at the gym and these $300 worth of new gear is going to motivate and reward me for all my hard work!"

Oh my sweet summer child.

I'm not trying to undermine you. I'm just saying, like, double check that return policy for reasons.

Because OMG, you've earned it.